The Missing Spell
by Jacklyn Aileen
Summary: Liendra and Rea are partners, practically sisters. The two are out to kill their father, their father who has the missing spell. R/R =)
1. Part 1 Chapter 1

Partners in Crime: Jacklyn & Aileen (JA for those who are savvy enough to figure it out)  
  
Disclaimer: We're not rich. Nope, no siree, nada, non, nien, notin. ::Looks around at pitiful surroundings---blocks of moldy cheese and paper mache meese (as in the plural of moose):: No, we're definitely not rich, at least not in any value that counts in the world today. So, we haven't the money to purchase something as expensive as copyright laws. L.J. Smith owns the rights…for now.  
  
A/N: My grammar man was recently murdered…take pity. If you care to flame us for it, please send all e-mails to Russia, we hear that it gets cold there. Help a Russian brother in need.  
  
"What the umph, come on…what the f… I've never had problems with this watch before."  
  
"What are you mumbling to yourself for? We happen to be in the middle of a crowded room with a mission ahead of us…and you playing with your damn watch! Come on!" Leindra elbowed her friend firmly in the stomach. With a glare she turned to leave.  
  
"You know you have the boniest elbow…almost as scrawny as my kid sister's," detecting the fire in Liendra's eyes Rea added, "you stay here. I think I'll get some of that punch."  
  
"I hope you spill it on that shirt. Or better yet, do me a favor and choke to death," Liendra swiveled her curls floating around her shoulders, leaving her partner with a smile.  
  
The punch tasted like wine. Probably spiked. Otherwise the evening wasn't so bad. Except, well the music wasn't really here taste. Too loud, too…boring. Taking another sip she noticed Liendra who sat, legs tightly crossed, working her charm on some older man. At least that was how it looked. Sometimes it was funny to watch her friend. She really was so very tiny. At just under five feet, Liendra tended to end up looking like some cutesy rendition of Shirley Temple. Rea smiled at the thought of Liendra happily dancing, lollypop in hand. God she would kill her if she knew that Rea had even thought of it.  
  
"Hey sexy," a southern voice drawled behind her.  
  
Rea didn't even turn around. She didn't need to. Not really worth it.  
  
"Why don't you ditch this party and let me show you some real southern hospitality," Vincent insinuated.  
  
"Must be all that practice you southern gents have with them hogs of yours," Rea mocked his accent.  
  
"Ow! I like fire in a woman. You know, Sug, you really should slow down and take life as it comes. Down south we do everything nice and slow, better too," Vincent, replied a smile stretched across his pale face.  
  
Rea studied him, head to toe. Studied him in a way only predators recognized. As a fellow hunter Vincent knew the intention of her once over, but ignored it.  
  
"Like what you see Sug' I got plenty more to show if you're ready and willin' to do your part," the invitation dripped from his lips like molasses.  
  
Rea had no intention of getting any closer to Vincent than absolutely possible. He might be a charmer, however poor his intentions. But she was too smart to believe a damn word that came out of his mouth. Vincent might be charismatic and slightly attractive, but Rea had the feeling that he was more vain by half, and the only person he was ever out to benefit was himself. Leaning towards his face, Rea brought their gazes parallel; ready to offer the final blow that would finish the stupid conversation. And hopefully end his annoyingly frequent invites.  
  
* * *  
  
From the far side of the room, Liendra was trying to carry on some form of communication with the most boring, conceited, excuse for a man she had ever laid eyes on. What she wouldn't do for an excuse to sock him in the eye. Stupid bastard. If he didn't stop talking about his frieking car, she was going to half to make up some kind of reason and leave. He was ugly and dumb, and not worth her precious time. The man obviously did not spend much time away from his mirror. He probably had no clue where the files were. Tearing her eyes away from his, she scanned the crowd hoping to find someone who might.  
  
That was when the explosion hit and there really was no need for an excuse to leave anymore. 


	2. Part 1 Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own Nightworld. Nightworld don't own. Own don't Nightworld.  
  
A/N: I'm really not completely sure what to do with this story, so any reviews or suggestions would be warmly welcomed. Unless they're bad. Then you can keep them. Or just sell them on e-bay. Your choice.  
  
* * *  
  
"What the?! For Goddess sake put that thing down! Are you trying to get us caught?" Poppy squealed into the darkness of a third story bedroom. No one was around, there really was no chance of being caught in the act. But, Poppy thought, better safe than sorry.  
  
Downstairs a party was in the making. Punch, music, dancing, all things Poppy hadn't enjoyed in awhile. She missed dancing at parties. Normal parties. Normal people. Normal talking. Normal goals in life. Being human. It had been nearly a year since Poppy had become a vampire. She wasn't really sad or angry about it, she had James now. But every so often, she wondered about what might have been if…she hadn't had cancer…James had never revealed his secrets…if well--- if she hadn't fallen in love. Would she still be the same Poppy? The vivacious and spunky fairy, flittering around reality with a swish of wavy hair. Or---  
  
"Will you please try to focus already?" Rashel was pretty impatient tonight. She hadn't seen Quinn since Friday and today was Thursday. A Rashel without Quinn, Poppy learned, is a scary Rashel. For the past hour or so, ever since they'd broken the security system to the apartment complex, Rashel had been snipping at everything Poppy did. Poppy knew she was slightly anxious and impatient herself, but come on!  
  
Rashel toyed with the dial, turning it right and left, listening, waiting for the silent click that said 'I'm open.' But there was no click. Giving up, Rashel grabbed and twisted the combination lock with all her strength, irritation dominating her every movement. Goddess! She was tired, probably smelled worse than she felt, and she missed Quinn too damn much. You'll see him soon, she reminded herself. All you have to do is finish the job, and then you can fly out to Boston and…and…have tea or something…just finish the mission. Rashel expelled a breath from her constricted throat she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Like a swan she dropped her neck face staring at the carpeted floor. She needed to concentrate. Deep breaths. Precision.  
  
Quinn…  
  
Quinn…  
  
Quinn…  
  
So much for focus she thought. Behind her she could hear Poppy shifting from foot to foot, doing some thinking of her own.  
  
"I say we blow this thing up. Neither one of us really wants to be here. Let's just go. Okay?" Rashel had craned her neck around from her crouch on the floor to look up at Poppy.  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Poppy asked, she really didn't want to be here either, but she felt that she should ask. Poppy didn't want to be the one responsible for such an action.  
  
"Do you really want to do this, or what?" Rashel waited a beat for an answer she already knew.  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Well? Talk, come on…TALK! You do it all the time. You hardly shut up! Just answer my question and we can LEAVE!" Rashel ordered, her voice wavering on an outburst.  
  
"No. Just do it already," Poppy turned around, watching the door.  
  
Poppy figured that Rashel probably knew what she was doing. They really did need those files, and, well…  
  
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. What if they accidentally destroyed the files, what then? Poppy whipped around ready to stop Rashel when she noticed that Rashel was also having second thoughts, a look of regret and possibly…no, it couldn't be…yes, it was…horror, from Rashel.  
  
"It's gonna blow, someone messed it up, we gotta get out of here!"  
  
TBC? 


End file.
